


Final Paradigm

by UnknownSatellite84



Series: The Monster You Made Me [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Backstory, Blood, Body Modification, Brooding, Dubious Science, Future Fic, Hatred, Headcanon, Inspired by Music, Love/Hate, M/M, One Shot, Science Fiction, Theft, Violence, body-stealing, cloning, forceps, self-surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 02:55:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11004501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnknownSatellite84/pseuds/UnknownSatellite84
Summary: Eobard has arrived home after fifteen long years. Now, he must reclaim his speed, his body, and his life. But he'd be an idiot if he didn't take advantage of the situation. And he was most definitely not an idiot.Inspired by the song Paradigm by Avenged Sevenfold.





	Final Paradigm

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a little headcanon of mine to go with my other story, Reversed.
> 
> Also, there are a lot of thoughts in this fic, on a larger scale than what I usually write. I guess I felt like EoWells does a lot of thinking, planning, analyzing, and brooding and such? It seems right for this kind of fic, either way.

Eobard Thawne staggered from the time sphere in the body of Harrison Wells and was disoriented for several moments. He stumbled and lost his balance, collapsing to the floor. He crawled forward, hands grasping at the ground for balance. He stopped and blinked, letting his vision adjust, and his mind focused after a few seconds. He could make out a familiar wall in front of him, as if he'd never left the particle accelerator. But that was absurd. He could easily recall going into the singularity, his way home. There shouldn't be a STAR Labs here and now in the twenty-second century, much less the husk of the particle accelerator.

“I've been waiting for you, Thawne.”

Eobard's gaze snapped up at the familiar voice. Flash looked down on him.

“Though I'll admit, it's a weird feeling seeing Harrison Wells’ face again. Last time was over a hundred years ago.”

The Reverse Flash pushed to his feet, dizzy. He braced himself, then moved to start running, but his limbs were sluggish and didn't respond. He managed a single step before he realized he couldn't harness the Speed Force. There wasn't even the faintest hint of electricity in his veins. “I don't have my speed still,” he muttered, fists clenching. His eyes dragged to the Scarlet Speedster. “You didn't save her?” Anger filled him. “Why?” He knew this must be why he didn't have his speed. Flash hadn't reset the timeline, as Eobard had given him the chance to. “You could have had what you wanted! You could have had everything you ever wanted! But you shunned it... And because of that, I don't have my speed! Because of _you_!” He lashed out at the Flash, who he vaguely noticed was much older now. 

He never landed his hit. How could he? Speed-less, there was no way he'd catch the hero.

He gave up almost immediately with a hiss and looked around.

His nemesis began speaking, “I had everything I wanted, you know, and then I screwed it up... I did change the timeline, but it wasn't real. It was a false paradise. A temptation. I finally gave it up...because of you... Don't you remember? Flashpoint?"

Right on cue, the memories of the new timeline came flooding in, as if they'd just realized they were supposed to. Eobard grimaced. “You...you imprisoned me. For months. Then you…” He laughed a little here, “...asked me to end her. You asked me to kill your mother... Oh, I imagine that was hard for you."

“And here I almost forgot why I hated you so much.”

“Still too soon?” Eobard grinned, a taunting expression. “It's only been a century and a half, after all.” 

The Flash looked coldly upon him, and the Reverse was almost relieved by the mutual hatred. He was relieved by the condescendence. It meant nothing had changed with the Flash. He was still the man Eobard hated.

“You should leave,” Flash said, voice tight. “Never come back, because if you do…”

“You aren't going to lock me away, again, Flash?”

“No. You don't have your speed. You're not a threat like this.”

Eobard glared at him. “What makes you think I won't get it back?”

“I know you will. But I'm not going to lock a non-meta up.”

Thawne sneered, “You're a moronic fool if you think this is a smart decision.”

“Don't push your luck. I told you to leave.”

Eobard shoved past him, though the other man barely flinched. He stopped and turned. "See you around, Flash," he whispered in his ear before leaving.

* * *

Eobard stepped into the sunlight, glancing around Central City. He sighed with relief.

_Home._

He felt giddy. He inhaled, exhaled, drawing in the essence of the future into his being, feeling almost like he were purging the filth of the twenty-first century from his veins with every breath. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to breath in air that wasn't polluted by the fumes of burning fossil fuels and smog and fast food.

Although, he kind of missed Big Belly Burger already, if he were being honest with himself. The twenty-first century may have been a graveyard compared to the late twenty-second, but it did have its merits, however few they were.

As he stared into the brilliant sky, he realized he didn't know what to do first. Without his speed, and trapped in a body not his own, he was a literal nobody here. The man he technically was now had been declared dead for almost two centuries. Getting home had only been half the race. Regaining what he'd really lost, was the final stretch. At least the goal was in sight, now.

* * *

Eobard Thawne had been declared missing for three months.

That wasn’t part of the plan. Maybe Cisco had miscalculated the sphere in some minor way, sending him to a time _after_ he was supposed to return. It was a minor annoyance, really. He would correct those missing persons reports as soon as he found out how to become Eobard Thawne again.

He went to his house first to ensure nothing had been removed, which nothing had, and then to the private land he owned where he’d started keeping his things related to Reverse Flash in case of any unlikely police investigations. Police were always irritating, in any century. As it turned out, that’d been a wise precaution, as there had been an investigation after his disappearance, and everyone was still none-the-wiser to him being a villainous speedster.

At his base, he reacquainted himself with the technology of his century that he’d missed so much. Holoblocks - so much more useful than cellphones.

He was just glad to be back to his "lair". He thought that was what Cisco would probably call it if he were here. The "lair" was actually an underground bunker hidden beneath an unassuming field. Eobard took in the white walls glowing blue lights once again. They had the same braille-like pattern of the time vault, and it was so relaxing to walk inside of them after so much time.

_Lair._ He chuckled and found he missed Cisco. 

He changed from his Reverse Flash suit into a more relaxed outfit, and tapped his ring to the glass display-case containing a mannequin. The suit appeared on it.

He had a small problem, though - that was, besides his lack of speed.

As long as he looked like Harrison Wells, he had no life here in the twenty-second century. Who could he say he was? His family would never believe he was Eobard Thawne. A DNA test would be done, and it’d match a man who’d been declared dead for almost two-hundred years. Body-stealing wasn’t exactly common, and even at that, it was a heinous crime generally considered by the average person to be worse than murder. To steal someone’s life, like a poltergeist possessing a corpse, would make prison the least of anyone's worries.

No, he’d have to get his old body back, if he ever wanted to keep everything that’d happened a secret.

His mind ran over multiple options. He could body-steal from a doppelganger, or even a time remnant - assuming he could find one and subdue it - but without his speed, it’d be difficult to capture anyone, especially a version of himself that still had his powers.

Creating a dimensional portal to track down a non-metahuman doppelganger of his seemed like the best option, even though that could take a fair amount of time, in itself. True, finding an Earth with the Thawnes on it probably would be easy enough, but he knew from experience that luck was never on his side. He could stumble across a family of Thawnes who didn’t have a son. Or ones who'd had a son that’d been killed. Or a son that wasn't even him. And the farther he got away from this Earth, the less likely he’d find a doppelganger he could use. And if the plan failed, he’d be trapped on one of those other Earths, maybe for good if he couldn't get his speed back... And he refused to ever go through that kind of hell again. He was done with pointless risks of that level.

Another idea occurred to him - a different way to get his life back, without that level of risk.

He smiled, staring at the Reverse Flash suit.

Yes, this was the simplest option. It was a good thing he was a meticulous man, carefully planning for every scenario even before he'd been stranded in the past. He had all the equipment he needed here for this new plan. Unfortunately, it’d take some time to pull it off, but it was most definitely the wisest path. Not only was it the one of the least risk, but it would also give him his speed and life back at the same time.

* * *

Eobard cursed. He was missing a few components that he hadn’t realized he would need before now. Most were easy enough to obtain, but...

His supply of Paradigm X had perished over his absence thanks to a malfunction in the south-wing freezer in the bunker. Of course a simple malfunction was trying to keep him from reclaiming his life. All this really meant, though, was that he'd have to steal some. Even if that was a bit problematic in itself. The stuff wasn’t exactly available at the local pharmacy. In fact, it was illegal for civilian use without supervision and a prescription, because of its wide array of unorthodox uses.

He could, of course, give this body symptoms of an illness that would require Paradigm X to be prescribed by a doctor, but that would require him to have an actual identification in this century, and even then, the substance would be monitored by said doctor. And even if he could, he didn’t have much money in this form to pay for it. All of his money was in the name of Eobard Thawne, and he didn’t have that name, not any more.

He was really beginning to loathe this body, and the way it was hindering his efforts...

Theft seemed to be the only option.

He then toyed with the idea of manipulating someone less perishable but much more expendable into doing the deed for him. But who could he trust? He’d never had many associates. In fact, the only aid he’d ever had as Reverse Flash was Gideon. Many villains had wanted to team up over time, but it just wasn’t his style. Being a loner was his preference, and it suited who he was.

Getting help was not an option, then. He'd have to do the deed, himself.

He closed his eyes, and without warning, his thoughts turned from his predicament to the Flash. To Barry Allen. That man had grown through this last century and a half. He hadn’t time-traveled like Eobard. No, he had _lived_ it. All the experiences that had created the man he hated so much in the original timeline had also made this man the same. It had to. They were the same person, after all, and their only difference had been age. Being home now in this time period made it easier to remember the Flash he despised.

Still, he couldn’t quite conjure up the level of hatred he once had. He’d been pissed at the Flash for not saving his mother - which, if he had saved her, would have made all this planning unnecessary - but no matter how much anger he felt at that, it just couldn’t compete with the old hatred he’d felt on the night he’d set out to kill an eleven-year-old boy, the night he’d wound up driving a knife into Nora Allen’s heart.

He sighed and closed his eyes. 

His mind jumped again. He found himself lamenting his missing speed and the loss of his agelessness. He felt like an old man now when compared to what he used to be.

_That’s it!_

He knew what to do. His speed, in theory, should still come in sporadic bursts, even now. The paradox of being the Flash’s destroyer, and subsequently, creator, had obviously been the cause of his speed problems. It was as if the timeline couldn’t decide if he should be a speedster or not. Regardless, if he timed it right, he could use that speed to accomplish what he needed to.

“Gideon, how long will my next burst of speed last?”

“Unknown, Doctor Wells.”

“Please, Gideon, call me Professor Thawne again.”

“Yes, Professor Thawne.”

“Estimation on how long my speed will last when it next returns?”

“Calculating an average. Twenty-seven seconds. Though there is no guarantee the average will apply. It could last for as little as two-point-five seconds, your lowest time. Or twenty-six minutes, your longest time.”

Even if he only got just a few seconds, it’d be enough. Though anything under five was certainly pushing it.

He exhaled again.

He supposed risks were necessary at this point, if he ever wanted to be a speedster again. It was still a smaller risk than earth-hopping, looking for some poor Eobard Thawne who would be clueless to his doppelganger’s rather malicious intentions.

“Gideon, will tachyons give me a burst of Speed Force?”

“Possible. Probability: Eighty-five percent chance.”

At least he had tachyons here in the bunker. Those would be almost impossible to steal in his current condition.

* * *

Eobard spent a few weeks picking his target carefully. The general hospital seemed the best bet, considering it wasn't exactly well-defended. Admission into the hospital was a bit more difficult in the twenty-second century, though. Coming in as a visitor wouldn’t work. If he did, he’d need to check himself into their registry via holoblock for an ID, and the only holoblock he owned would claim he was Eobard Thawne; even a blind person would know he wasn’t.

So, naturally, sneaking in was really the best bet.

He lingered in the visitor’s lobby, eyeing people coming and going.

_Patience._

After about an hour and a half of pretending to read a projection from his holoblock in his corner of the room, he got his opportunity.

A woman with two children came in. The children were misbehaving, yelling, chasing each other and being general nuisances, and the unsuspecting woman was distracted trying to gain control of them. On an occasion where she chased them to the restrooms, Eobard sauntered over and plucked the visitor’s ID from her belongings. Of course, if he was stopped in the hallways, the ID wasn’t exactly going to match him, but it should be enough to let him move through the building without tripping alarms.

He passed down the hallways, weaving through visitors and doctors alike. Nobody stopped him, so his plan seemed to be working. He then passed by the elevator to the sub-level, where only the doctors were allowed. Two security officers stood before the doors, IDing anyone who passed. There’d be another two at the stairs acting as a fire escape, but he could race past them.

The stairs would be the easier option.

He memorized the levels, using another half hour to do so, just in case he had to beat a hasty retreat without his speed. Once he was satisfied, he stood down the hall from the guards. His heart-rate quickened. For the first time, it hit him how sourly this could really go. He didn’t let himself hesitate, though. He tapped the tachyonic device hidden under his jacket.

A rush of Speed Force flooded his veins, and it was glorious. He felt like he was coming back to life. Lightning buzzed under his skin, energy in every part of his being, and he felt ten years younger. He grinned at the sensation. Inhaling, he activated his ring and became Reverse Flash in an instant.

He rushed past the guards, and they staggered at the force of his hurtling past them. He ran down the stairs without missing a beat. He reached the freezer vault and phased through the door. He didn’t hesitate as he went through every drawer. After several containers had been searched, he found what he had came for in a metal box with four codes to bypass. He phased his hand safely through all the safety walls and lasers. Really, if the state were willing to pay more money, they may have even put power dampeners in this building. Obviously, no one wanted to throw tax dollars at that.

It was fortunate for him.

Paradigm X wasn’t the substance's official name, he reflected as he stared at the small, black vial. The actual name was far more dull and not worth calling to memory. A cocktail of stem and blood cells, and all different types of DNA converting nanobots, it was a delicate solution, requiring cryo-stasis to keep it viable for any length of time. It was commonly used in age-reversal medications - a procedure that was not unlike the twenty-first century plastic-surgery practices in the fact that it was incredibly expensive so only the wealthy really had access to it. It was no wonder it was kept behind such security. Black market dealers could get rich off these, assuming they had the proper equipment to use it.

He turned and froze.

“So this is what you decide to get up to after making it home.”

The Flash stood there.

He’d almost forgotten how the hero stooped to ending even the most petty crimes, from dogs shitting to where they weren’t supposed to, to acts of public indecency. Not that Reverse Flash had ever seen him forcing anyone to pick up after their dog, but the idea was certainly enough to bring him sardonic amusement as he exaggerated to himself his irritation of the Flash and his petty heroics.

Their rather messy history aside, Eobard despised him for the fact that he was always getting in his way.

_“Get out of my way,"_ he growled as Reverse Flash.

There was no telling how long his speed would last. He’d have to escape the other speedster before it left him. He didn't want to risk taking the time to brawl with him.

“Why would I do that? And what’s that you got there?” The man pointed at the vial.

_“None of your business,”_ Eobard snapped, circling to the side. He was relieved when his old enemy fell into the natural habit of circling with him. Idiot. He was exposing the door.

“It is my business, if you’re stealing it.”

_"You_ aren’t _a hero, Flash,”_ he growled, keeping him distracted. _“So, it’s not your business.”_

“Alright, don’t tell me. I’ll see soon enough when I knock it out of your fist… Oh, and I see you’ve got your speed back.”

No. He didn’t. But it was likely better the Flash didn’t know that much. 

He flashed a grin before darting for the door.

He made it down the hallway before he collapsed. Alarms sounded.

No. No. No. This couldn’t be happening now. Not now of all times. He was so close!

Squaring his shoulders and bracing himself with his elbows, he used the last remaining Speed Force in his cells to phase the container of Paradigm into his forearm. He screamed in pain, but the wound quickly closed, leaving only a heavy ache behind. Gasping, he felt himself growing heavier as the Speed Force evaporated from him. He gritted his teeth, feeling sweat on his brow.

“Or not,” the Flash’s voice said behind him.

Eobard twisted over onto his back, glaring up at the vigilante. “It’s not as easy as you think.”

“Where is it?”

“Where is what?”

“What you took.”

“I dropped it somewhere,” Eobard hissed, feeling the pain in his arm that said otherwise.

There was the sound of footsteps and shouting from the security guards from the stairs.

“Alright, I guess we can discuss this back at STAR labs.” 

The Reverse felt the Flash snatch him up and they burst away.

* * *

Eobard felt annoyance rising in him. 

Allen glared at him, arms folded. “Where did you hide it?”

The Flash wasn’t as much of an idiot as Eobard liked to think. It would probably only be a matter of time before he found out the truth. Eobard just had to stall, though, until he found a way to escape. “I told you I dropped it.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

The Reverse Flash sighed. “You could let me go… I don’t have my speed, as you saw. I simply used tachyons for a temporary boost. You don’t have to worry about me being Reverse Flash again.”

“What were you trying to steal, and why?” Flash asked.

“Paradigm X,” Eobard replied. “I’m trying to regain my body.”

“And you’re speed, I’m guessing. So, I imagine I will have to worry about you becoming Reverse Flash again.”

Eobard laughed a little and sighed. “Getting home was part of the battle. Reclaiming my identity is the only way I can have everything that was taken from me.” He stood. “I gave you the option to have everything I’d taken from you. You refused. And because of that, I’m stuck here like this, without my speed, without my name or body. It’s a little unfair of you to deprive me of that much.” He sighed. “I never denied you, Flash... But I shouldn’t be surprised that you would deny me the same courtesy.”

“I’m not going to give you a free pass to steal and murder again.” The other frowned at him. “Tell me where that substance is, then I’ll talk about letting you go.”

“I need the substance, don’t you see?” Eobard hissed. “And the reason I stole it, is because I can’t purchase it without my body. And what I already had expired because of a malfunction!” He seethed with anger. “If you deny me this much, I will find another way. You know I will. And how do you think I'll repay your overflowing  _generosity_ when I do?”

“And I should, what, let you go back to being Reverse Flash, hurting and killing people? I should let you start our war again?”

Eobard exhaled yet again. He ran a hand through his hair. He hated the Flash. This man was the man Eobard remembered from the original timeline. Unreasonable and irritating and cold.

He then felt it, the hair-rising sensation of the Speed Force within reach.

He decided not to run this time.

He yanked his cowl on and launched himself as his infuriating nemesis. He ducked, then retaliated. It wasn't long before they were all-out fighting in superspeed.

Eobard coaxed the other into a fighting style he knew well, initiating it. The Flash followed the challenge. Eobard had encouraged the fight in this direction because he knew how to manipulate it to his advantage. His left hand lashing out, his wrist caught, he twisted, ducked, and the Flash slammed him in the stomach, but Eobard didn’t waste a second. Instead of succumbing to the agony, he brought his other fist down hard on the man’s leg.

There was a crack.

Allen cried out in pain.

Eobard felt a rush of victorious pleasure, and slammed his knuckles against the Flash mask. The hit felt so good, that he laughed with pure joy. His heart warmed with triumphant pleasure for the first time in a long time.

Before the Flash could recover, he twisted behind him and wrapped an arm around his neck, squeezing it tight. The man tried to phase away, but Eobard had already put disruptors in his suit specific to the Flash’s frequency long ago. He wouldn’t escape like that. It was obvious the Flash had forgotten what it was like to face his reverse. Not that Eobard could blame him. It had been _quite_ some time since they’d last fought, especially if he didn’t count the younger version of himself still scattered throughout the timeline, opposing the Flash here and there as well as he could in different times - but that him was weaker than this him.

Allen struggled, trying to claw free, his arm attempting to elbow Eobard in the ribs, but with the angle he was at, none of his resistance was remotely effective.

Eobard held on until the man went limp. But he realized the ploy. The Flash never passed out this quickly. It was a trick.

He drew his arm tighter, snarling. “You can’t fool me, Mr. Allen.”

He counted. 

The ruse faded and the man gave one last desperate thrash for freedom in an oxygen-deprived action full of panic.

Eobard felt him go actually limp.

He waited two more seconds to be sure. He dropped the unconscious man and raised a vibrating hand.

He could kill him, like this.

He felt the dizzying sensation of the Speed Force fading. He turned and dashed from STAR Labs instead. He was afraid his speed would vanish too soon if he wasted time on killing the Flash. He could do that later, when he didn’t have to worry about his speed leaving him.

And in truth, there’d been a small part of him that hadn’t wanted to. He’d looked down at the unconscious face, and in that split second, he'd seen the twenty-six-year old Barry Allen of the twenty-first century, the one he’d felt protective of.

It was absurd, he knew, but there was no reason to ponder on it. He’d only had time for fleeting reactions, not well-thought-out choices, and that was the response his reflexes had made.

* * *

He managed to reach the bunker before the Speed Force left him.

He picked himself up off the floor and brushed off his suit.

Then, he realized the dilemma this lack of speed left him with. The Paradigm X was still in his arm, still under the skin. Without his powers, he’d have to cut it out. And that was not a pleasant prospect. But a necessary one, as it were. He stuck his suit on the mannequin and rolled up his sleeve. He eyed the unmarred skin, as if there wasn’t a foreign object in there at all, though the pain that he felt from it said otherwise. On the upside, he could use pain-killers, now that his metabolism had normalized.

“Prepare the medical bay, Gideon,” he ordered, crossing the bunker, “and the laser equipment for surgery.”

“Yes, Professor.”

He took a seat in the operating chair. It wasn’t the first time he’d performed self-surgery, so at least he was no stranger to this. He settled himself and turned on the x-ray machine. He placed the protective eyewear on his face, injected the pain-killers into his arm, and strapped it down for good measure to insure it didn’t move at all. There was no need for more damage to this body if he could help it. It would have to last a while longer yet. He picked up the equipment from a surgical tray.

He then took a deep breath, and turned the laser on. He put it to his arm, where he’d placed the Paradigm X, and cut the skin with a quick stroke. It would have almost been nice how easily the skin parted, if the blood that flowed out of it wasn’t a reminder he was on a time limit. He clenched his jaw and made sure the incision was wide enough.

Then he seized the forceps from the tray, and inserted it into the wound. He turned his gaze to the monitor to navigate past the tendons in his arm. He clamped onto the small vial, and pulled it free.

He sighed and sat it gently on the tray. He put aside the tools and stitched up the arm, sterilizing and then bandaging it for good measure. He cleaned the blood from his Paradigm X and shook his head at the amount of trouble he’d gone through for it. Typical, the Flash had made him go to this length. But the hero had failed to stop him, and that was all that mattered at this point. He smiled at the thought.

He set to work on his project immediately.

* * *

Eobard was at the last phase of the project. It’d taken a full month to come this far, and today was the day - the day he reclaimed his name, his body, his speed, his identity. He felt pure pride and joy, not to mention anticipation, now that he was here.

He stepped into the room, where the glass tube of fluid was, and paused. He admired his efforts.

The body of Eobard Thawne was suspended in the case, a perfect clone of the Eobard Thawne that had first gained his speed. The clone looked a little younger than he had when he’d raced back in time and killed the Flash’s mother, Thawne noted, but it was the safest option, to ensure his mutated DNA was rife with Speed Force, to ensure the paradox of his time-jumps would be resolved.

In just a few hours, he would drain the fluid, and he would claim the body, and be rid of this one forever. No more lack of speed. No more feeling like a worn-out, old man. It was time to return to who he’d been.

He settled into his seat at the nearby desk, content. He’d waited almost sixteen years at this point. He could handle a few more hours.

Once more, his thoughts went back to another thought he could never get far from.

The Flash.

It seemed like the man, his nemesis, once his teacher and practically his god, was always lingering at the edge of his mind. The Scarlet Speedster had consumed him, his identity. Every moment since dedicating his life to becoming a speedster could be owed to him. And he hated that. He would always exist because of that man, but it wasn't lost on him that the man now existed because of him, too - that man he hated with a fury too deep to fully understand. 

_Hate and love are so close, it can be easy to mistake one for the other._ He understood that sentiment, though he wasn’t quite able to recall where he’d heard it. Perhaps he’d thought of it himself.

It was true. He’d once loved the Flash in every way a person could. He’d imagined, once, spending the rest of his life fighting at his side. Of course, the other hadn’t loved him back. It had been so damned obvious, and yet Eobard had blindly ignored his lack of feelings. Instead, he’d built a fantasy in his head, a lie that had sabotaged him. He’d imagined that the cold hero _did_ love him back, in his own way, and he'd allowed himself believed it.

Except, that fantasy had been torn from him brutally.

The Flash had dropped him faster than he could run, without even a hint of emotion save for his usual irritation.

_"What did I tell you about getting attached? I warned you well enough that I would drop you if it became necessary. It is now necessary."_

Eobard gritted his teeth.

Every time he needed a reminder of his anger on the days he found the hatred in him being overtaken with nostalgia and longing, he was pulled to that day, to those words.

_“I said you’re through.”_

But Eobard hadn’t been through. No, he’d only just been getting started.

The Flash had ripped his heart out. And he, in turn would one day be granted the same privilege. The man deserved to suffer as he had.

Then, he deserved to die.

_In time._

He told himself.

_All in time._

And for once, his plan was going perfectly.

* * *

Science was beautiful. Because of it, nothing was beyond him. It would allow him to do anything.

It had allowed him to do _this._

“Gideon, drain the tank then open it.”

The tube emptied of fluid, and the glass opened.

Eobard stared at the body. It was perfection incarnate, he thought. He’d added some enhancements to his own DNA during the beginning of his project, to give himself more of an edge - certain modifications for greater emotional control, a slightly higher IQ (Because could he really have too much? It was his greatest advantage over the Flash), a higher tolerance to pain, increased strength to Speed Force ratio, and other minor efficiencies that weren't already there by the speedster gene.

He would feel better than he’d ever felt in his life.

He would feel like a god compared to this form.

His breath caught, and his heart beat faster. He inhaled, preparing himself for the painful process. He took the transposer from his pocket and plugged it into the body, then, into his own. Instant agony flooded him when he activated it, but he stood his ground. He gasped, feeling every nerve burn, feeling the morphing sensation of his skin, organs, bones, and muscles all evolving into something greater.

He felt his weaknesses being erased, he felt his strength growing. He felt electricity sizzling in every part of his body. He felt the Speed Force, no longer fleeting and unobtainable, but there, inside of him.

He gasped for air for several seconds.

The pain faded, and his breathing leveled out.

He stared at the ruined, almost burnt-looking corpse that was the clone.

He blinked and reached up, feeling the skin of his face. He looked at his hands. Already, they were different. He pivoted and crossed the room to stare at his reflection in the nearby mirror. Red electricity danced in his eyes, and he traced the line of his jaw, feeling, inspecting every inch of his new look, running fingers in the blonde locks on his head.

He felt a surge of panic.

He didn’t recognize himself.

Body dissociation, his rational mind said. It would pass in a few minutes. It was common with body-stealing. In fact, it'd happened when he’d first stolen Harrison Well’s form.

He closed his eyes, waiting for his heart to slow, waiting for his mind to calm.

His memories defined him. And he remembered _everything._

_I am me._

He looked into the mirror once more.

He saw the prodigal son of a distinguished family.

He saw himself.

_I am Eobard Thawne._

And then...then the unexpected rage flooded him, hot and fierce, and he suddenly remembered just how much he’d hated the Flash. He remembered how the other had betrayed him in the worst way. The rage made his fists clench the sink there hard enough that it cracked. He felt the Speed Force heighten, and he could almost taste the metallic flavor of blood in his mouth. He could almost see everything in hues of red. It was the most earnest truth he’d ever experienced in his life. He imagined all the ways he wanted to kill his enemy, all the ways he wanted to hurt him, humiliate him.

Barry Allen would die by his hands. No more hesitation. No more nonsense.

He grinned at his reflection.

_I am Reverse Flash._


End file.
